Sunday, March 2, 2008

Monday, February 18, 2008

Friday, February 15, 2008

I’ve seen too much, I’ve heard too much, I’ve done neither at all.I’ve been living like a king in a pen with shit and matted straw.I can hear the farmer coming with a cleaver in his hand,I try to scream and start to vomit but it all comes out as sand.Come back another day.Come back another day.

I can’t remember if it’s here or there that I belong.And the wind keeps chanting backwards in a sweetly sour song.I’ve dug twelve holes already, will it ever be enough?You can fill your car with promises, hopes and dreams and all that stuff.Drive me far away.Drive me far away.

I wear a glass heart on my shoulder and fool people with a grin.I keep my real one in a cabinet between the coffee and the gin.My mind is floating somewhere in the ether at my leave.My dignity’s long gone, last train to Clarksville, I believe.Always there and then.Always there and then.

If you want to come along with me you have to understand,My sense of right and wrong can shift at the puppeteers command.The lobster perching on my head has snipped off my left ear.My words beguile the meaning which, to tell the truth, was never clear.Fucked it up again.Fucked it up again.